


Exponentiation

by Rubynye



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 03:57:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wonders if this is how men feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exponentiation

Title: Exponentiation  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Amita Ramanujan / Charlie Eppes  
Warnings: Het, no spoilers beyond the pairing.  
Summary: She wonders if this is how men feel.  
Fandom &amp; Prompt: Numb3rs, Charlie/Amita, watching  
Disclaimer: The characters herein do not belong to me.

 

"Oh, yes, Amita, oh God, like that, like that, yes..."

Charlie doesn't actually talk _all_ the time. Sometimes he's even disconcertingly quiet. Right now, though, splayed across Amita's bed, he's talking as fast and as much as he can, which is saying a lot.

"Harder, please, harder, it's all converging..."

Amita barely notices the twinge in her wrist as she complies, thinking of the different ways Charlie talks, as a teacher, an advisor, a friend, a lover. Not to mention body language, as he bucks so hard she nearly loses her grip. She firms it up and moves faster, laughing as he twists and arches, his arms lean and strong as he pushes against the headboard.

"Yes, please, yes, racing the asymptote, blue-red transformations..."

Of course, sometimes she has no idea what he's going on about, but that's a pretty standard property of a boyfriend. This particular boyfriend demonstrates one of his better qualities by bucking with all of his surprising strength; Amita stills her hands and lets him set the pace, plunging into her fist, fucking himself on her fingers. Charlie writhes under her hands, his arms taut with effort and his back drawn up in a tense bow, his eyes looking even bigger pressed so tightly shut and his mouth even tenderer falling open; his voice surges and falls without clear words, drowning out even the smack of her fingers into him until he gasps, "Amita," ragged but coherent, and comes all over his stomach, pulsing tight around her fingers, shouting wordlessly with each spurt.

"Wow," Amita murmurs, feeling her thighs slicken, watching his chest heave as he collapses across the bed. "God, Charlie, look at you." Kneeling between his splayed legs, she strokes her hand off him and down the firm muscle of his thigh; he looks just about melted, and she wonders if this is how men feel when they watch women come apart with pleasure, if this is how Charlie feels when they're having sex and he watches her with that observing smile on his face.

His smile unfurls differently in this moment, slow and wide and sated, his eyelids lifting just enough that his eyes gleam from beneath the thick fringe of his eyelashes, and she grins at him. He squeezes deliberately around her fingers until she laughs and tugs on them. "I need these to code with."

"Mmm." Charlie's smile broadens; he takes a deep breath, sighs, and pushes himself up on the headboard, reaching up for the towel they left draped over it as Amita peels off the glove. She snags the towel from him, wipes off her hand with one end and his belly with the other as best she can until Charlie wraps his hands around her wrists. "Come here," he says, tugging.

"We should take a shower." She pretty much invalidates that while she's saying it by letting Charlie pull her into a hot, sticky, thoroughly satisfying hug. It's late, and she shouldn't be this awake, let alone this turned on, but as Charlie's hand skims down her back she tucks her head between his neck and shoulder, remembering his neck arching, his voice hoarse and happy when he came.

"Why?" Charlie asks into her hair, obtusely curious.

Amita rolls her eyes. "Because you're a mess."

"Well, you got me this way." Amita snorts, feeling Charlie grin over her forehead before he kisses it. He kisses her eyelid next, and she turns her face up to him, but he only kisses her mouth lightly before he asks, "so, what did you think?"

"I think... that was amazing. You looked amazing. I've never seen you like that, so, so... open." Not quite the right word, but...

It makes Charlie smirk, anyway. "Open, huh?"

His arched eyebrow makes her blush. "Well, I just... I knew the mechanics, the anatomy, but I didn't realize you'd get so much out of it until I watched you."

"Constructivist," Charlie teases, hand curving to her cheek as he kisses her again; he strokes down her throat as he looks into her eyes. "Did you expect you'd get so much out of it?" His fingers trail lightly over her breast, brushing tingles over her nipple, spreading over her ribs. "I think you liked having me at your mercy, Dr. Ramanujan."

Amita shivers as Charlie's hand traces the curve of her belly, and when she says his name it's a moan. "I think," he says, lips brushing her mouth, voice low so she hears the wet slide of his hand between her thighs, "you liked it a lot."


End file.
